To Hunt a Sub Read online

  As he pocketed an extra magazine, he took a picture of a white Honda two-door at the far end of the lot, then started a perimeter search of the cabin, searching out prints, trash, cigarette butts, and any foreign trace. His feet rolled heel to toe to tamp the sound of crunching twigs and leaves. A wren’s lusty voice called and the chatter of sparrows. He silently searched for shadows, out-of-place noises, activity, all for naught when Cap huffed up to Rowe’s side.

  “The Police’re on their way.” He shoved a paper at Rowe. “They reserved two rooms.”

  Rowe caught Cap’s eye and raised an eyebrow, silently asking, “Where’s this one?”

  Cap nodded toward a corner of the property and whispered, “I’ll get m’ rifle!”

  Rowe shook his head, but Cap was already gone. No movement in the windows. The curtains were drawn, so he approached unseen. Footprints between the two cabins were sharply edged, the crushed vegetation green, making it less than a day old. He pressed his ear against the rough exterior, but got nothing. He moved behind the sturdy door frame and listened while a spider inched its way up the window. There was no sound except the breeze ruffling the treetops.

  Rowe peered through a crack in the torn curtains. The bed was unmade. Old food containers and pizza boxes covered every flat surface. A light was on in what must be the bathroom. He edged the door open while flattening himself to the exterior wall. The room smelled sour and sweaty, but abandoned. He crouched and shuffled in, jerking his Sig corner to corner, then held it steady as he crab-walked toward the back room. He paused and then burst in swinging his weapon side to side.

  Empty. If they were gone, why leave the luggage and car? That’s when he got it. Cap owned the Honda. He started the process of reviewing the crime scene, but hands-off. He didn’t want to interfere with the local police investigation.

  Thirty minutes later, just as sirens arrived, he found fresh marks on the baseboard. They looked nothing like furniture scrapes, but Rowe had no idea what they were or if they were important. He snapped a picture. Ajit would figure it out.

  Chapter 50

  It took Rowe ninety minutes to explain the FBI’s involvement to the local police, all the while avoiding submarines, DNA viruses and stolen military secrets. When he mentioned a terrorist connection and the broadcast of Annie’s murder, the officer called it a Daniel Perl—death of an innocent at the hands of radicals. Rowe gave them his contact information as well as James’s and asked to be kept in the loop.

  He left them to their grisly task and stopped at the office. Cap trundled up, wide rheumy eyes fixed on Rowe.

  “If they come back, call me at this number and hide.” He handed Cap his business card. “I don’t think they will now that the police are involved.”

  “Your friend dropped this,” and he gave Rowe a candy bar wrapper with writing on one side. It was a maze of words, none of which made sense. Rowe uploaded a picture to James. “What about her car?”

  “Someone will retrieve it. Until then, keep everyone outside the yellow crime scene tape.”

  “We never had nothin’ like this b’fore. People come t’ enjoy themselves, not get killed. How do I explain it t’ Kath?”

  After a moment, Rowe offered, “Tell her Annie was good and decent, and a Patriot. She died fighting the good fight.” He patted Cap’s shoulder and left, but a heaviness descended upon him as he sped from the lot. Even if they caught the thugs who killed Annie, they’d already won. And Rowe was losing. He felt like a hiker standing on a wooden bridge that hung by one tattered thread across a bottomless chasm.

  He merged onto the thruway and called James.

  “The landlord’s shaken up. He wrote Annie off as a drunk prostitute getting more than she bargained for. He’s kicking himself for not helping her. He has a daughter.”

  “Those tire tracks are less than a day old, but we know the kidnappers/murderers were there at least three days.” James sounded efficient, but Rowe knew a rage simmered just below the surface, knew because he felt it too. Annie was like family. She wasn’t supposed to die.

  “Landlord says they rented one room and added another Saturday. Their original plan had nothing to do with Annie. What changed it?”

  James’ voice was tight. “She stumbled into them. Just bad luck, which she turned into an opportunity to give us clues.” He coughed.

  “I don’t know if this is another clue, but it was scratched into the baseboard of the second cabin—” And then Rowe got it. “Kali.”

  “What about Kali?” James’s voice notched up a tone.

  “The scratches say ‘Ilak’—Kali in reverse. It’s her word games. I thought it was random marks…”

  Rowe’s hands went cold and his stomach tightened. “Sean’s missing, isn’t he?” That’s why Annie shooed away the police. They threatened to kill Sean if she didn’t.

  There was whispering. When James spoke, it was with the voice that notified agent families of their death.

  “When we called, the leaders couldn’t find Sean. They hope he wandered off on a nature hike though the counselors say he never left his string bass except to eat. The Park Rangers are searching.”

  “Dammit!” He slammed a hand on the wheel. So much time and still he couldn’t protect one boy. Maybe he had lost his edge. “Does Kali know?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Where is it, Bobby?”

  “At Smoke Rise Campsites on Schroon Lake, about a mile from Cap’s as the crow flies. I have agents up there, my best guys. You’d be in the way, Zeke.”

  Should he go to Schroon Lake or get back to NY to break the news to Kali in person? He breathed deeply. “I’ll tell Kali. I’m an hour out.”

  Rowe bobbed around a threesome of sightseers and slipped back into his lane, narrowly avoiding an eighteen wheeler. The richness of nature flew by in a blur of wind and dirt. He had to ease off the gas as a VW Van appeared ahead of him. He honked and dodged around it.

  “The kidnappers must have holed up at Cap’s, waiting for the OK to take Sean, when Annie showed up. Once they figured out she knew too much, they got rid of her.”

  “Hold on, Bobby. Sun’s calling,” and he conferenced Sun into their call. “What’s up, Eitan?”

  “I wanted to see Manfried’s reaction to the emails from Al-Zahrawi—”

  “Eitan. Bobby’s here, too. Can you cut to the chase?”

  “I tapped into Columbia’s security cams. The visible ones were incapacitated of course, but the one I hid worked fine. The Dean didn’t open those messages. Al-Zahrawi/Keregosian made a mistake.” Keys clattered. “I forwarded the images to your phones.”

  Rowe opened the email on his dashboard.

  “Laslo Hemren, Zeke. Terrorist-to-be, young enough to slip up. He’s on Columbia’s roster as ‘Jack Fay’, night janitor, with keys to everything.”

  “That explains Matt Monroe’s key.” Rowe’s neck burned. He’d made another mistake by not crossing the facial recognition program with the University database.

  “There’s more. Laslo forwarded emails from the Dean’s computer to the same anonymous drop Keregosian uses.”

  “Which implicates the Dean in the conspiracy, as though he’s trying to hide his trail.”

  “Right.”

  James huffed. “Good work, Dr. Sun.” Whatever he said next was drowned out by background chatter.

  “Say again, Bobby?”

  “A note was hammered into Annie’s chest. It says, ‘Otto has seven days.”

  Chapter 51

  Kali turned as Rowe barged into her office. His hair sprouted out at odd angles and dirt striped his face like war paint. There were grimy streaks on his arms and stains on his clothing.

  And he was frightened, an emotion she didn’t think he had. Before she could ask, he snapped, “You didn’t answer your cell,”

  “I turned my phone off to concentrate on my dissertation. Where have you been?”

  He croaked out, “We need to talk.”

  Her phone buzzed. It wa
s Sean. “Hold on.”

  Horror filled Rowe’s face. “Kali, wait—”

  “Sean!” Rowe pushed speaker.

  “Mom. What’s going on?” His words came out a hoarse whisper followed by a yelp and then the smooth voice of Mr. Grant.

  “He is fine, which won’t continue if you fail.” His voice was friendly, a colleague talking to a friend.

  “You haven’t sent the magnetic signature! I can’t do anything without it!” Her heart smacked so hard against her ribs, it hurt to breathe.

  “Consider this a reminder of what is at stake—and put your earrings back on.” The line went dead.

  Kali crumpled, hands braced on her knees as her shoulders heaved. Rowe tried to pull her into his arms, but she resisted. “I’m alright, Zeke.”

  She wasn’t alright. Not even close.

  “I didn’t get to tell you yet… Last night, he called… said he would be sending me a magnetic signature for Otto to find. … Zeke, I don’t know if Otto can do that.”

  Her voice held no emotion, her face as flat as week-old soda. It broke his heart.

  “Kali. I’ll find him. I promise.”

  Kali wrapped her right arm across her belly, rested her left elbow on it, and chewed a cuticle that already bled. When her phone buzzed, she jumped, stabbed speaker and croaked, “Salah?” But it was Wyn, babbling about the excavation. Her face fell. “Wyn. I can’t talk—”

  He interrupted. “The skeleton was exactly where Otto specified. My crew will clean it up and ship it to Columbia.” His voice was giddy. “What else has Otto found?”

  “Someone kidnapped Sean.”

  Too quickly, Fairgrove said, “Do what they ask, Kali. They could kill you.”

  Kali’s eyes narrowed and her face hardened. “How do you know, Wyn?”

  “Well, I don’t …”

  “But you dealt with Al-Zahrawi before.” As Fairgrove stuttered, Kali calmly activated an app on her phone.

  “But not like this.” His words stumbled over each other.

  Rowe’s cell rang. He eyed Kali as he answered. Her eyes were glassy, skin dry and pale. He was afraid she might go into shock. “What did you find out, Bobby?”

  “A forest ranger saw Sean pounding on a car window. He thought it was a kid throwing a tantrum until he got the flier the camp put out. There aren’t a lot of places that road leads. We could pick him up soon.

  “More good news. IAFIS matched the fingerprints on Kali’s keyboard to Hemren and gave us an address. His roommates say he’s been missing a week which makes them happy. He scares them, attends anti-American meetings at all hours of the night.”

  Kali was massaging her temple. “Where is Sean, Wyn?”

  “Salah wouldn’t tell me! He’s crazy!”

  James barked. “Agit can track his emails--and he’s motivated. When he broke Keregosian’s code, it took him to a website. While he sorted through the pages, malware destroyed our system files.” James grunted, “Ajit called it a Chernobyl Meltdown. You can use your imagination. These people are smart.”

  “Eitan’s here. I’ll call you back.”

  “I like you, Wyn. You’re a good person, not evil. Help me stop them.”

  “I promise, Kali, they’ll go through me before they get you.”

  “Do you hear my keyboard, Wyn? No? Ask Salah. He’s bugging my lab.” Well, only if she had her earrings on. “I’m putting your name on my research. I don’t care about your past problems. I trust you.”

  “Sweetheart, thank you. Since I met you, I felt we were destined, and now you do, too. Please believe me: If I had his whereabouts, I’d tell you.”

  Kali stuck her finger in her mouth and pretended to calm down. “Of course, Wyn. Will you tell Sean I love him the next time you see him?”

  “He’s fine. I mean, I’m sure he’s fine. You and I won’t help Salah if he isn’t.”

  Sun opened his laptop and caught Rowe’s eye, but said nothing.

  “Kalian, we are always together, late nights and weekends. We collaborate on a thrilling project. Who wouldn’t be jealous of the emotional and intellectual bond we share. You see how it angers Rowe. It’s my lifetime dream.”

  Kali sniffled for effect.

  “Kalian, I hope when this is over, you’ll see we belong together.”

  Sun pulled Kali’s diamond studs from his pocket and fiddled with them. His eyes flicked from Kali to Otto and back.

  “Here’s what we’ll do. We use Otto to find artifacts, like the crocodile—”

  “Wyn, I’m finding Sean first.”

  “We divide and conquer, like those military SEALs. I find the crocodile. You give Salah the proof he wants.”

  Kali ended the call. “I can’t believe I was flattered by his attention. How stupid.” Her eyes misted, but she said nothing more.

  Rowe spoke gently, eyes locked onto hers, “Kali, can Otto find Sean?”

  She cocked her head and squinted at him. “What do you mean?”

  “In your DARPA presentation, you talked about Otto’s ability to pick up on the tiniest bits of data and his sensitivity to minute changes. Could he find Sean?”

  Kali put her hand out like a stop sign. “I know what you’re thinking, that I was going to search for Angel’s mom with Otto, but that was based on data. This would be Sean’s appearance.” She shook her head, but slowly, as though turning the idea around in her mind. “There are too many similarities between people—height, shape, mass. Even if I input exact specifications, Otto would come up with too many targets. I’d need visual, and I doubt there are cameras where he’s being held.” Her voice trailed off, lost in her own words.

  “OK. I’m going to talk to the Vitolska’s. This time, it won’t be friendly.”

  She didn’t seem to hear him.

  Though Fairgrove disapproved of Al-Zahrawi’s methods, they again worked. Kalian had just agreed to add his name to her research. When he rescued Sean, she might put ‘Dr. Wynton Fairgrove’ as primary when she published.

  What Rowe wanted was still a mystery. If not money or fame, Fairgrove had no idea.

  Chapter 52

  Monday

  “You need my help, Zeke. I know what’s normal with my son.”

  Rowe ignored Kali as he hobbled toward his car. He came in early to get someone to cover his classes. He absolutely didn’t want to see Kali.

  “Aren’t you working with Eitan? Never mind. Doesn’t matter. Hudson is too dangerous.” Al-Zahrawi’s interest in Sean was Kali, so bringing her to what could be ground zero would play right into his hands.

  “You won’t understand Sean’s puzzles.” She blocked him, forcing him to stop.

  He kept his eyes on the street. “You two use more than palindromes?”

  “If he left a message, I’ll find it.”

  Rowe considered her request and rejected it. “I can’t risk Al-Zahrawi knowing where I’m going.”

  She fingered her ears. “No diamond studs. They’re in my lab. Eitan programmed them to show a loop of me working. Al-Zahrawi will never see the difference.”

  Rowe scowled. “You two planned this.” He scooted around her and hurried to his vehicle, Kali a step behind. “Any sign of danger, you’re out.” She jumped in.

  As they sped north, Rowe asked, “What was that app you ran talking to Wyn yesterday?”

  “Eitan created it. It records the conversation, compares the voice to a baseline of the same person and determines if she or he is under stress, lying, or not telling the whole truth.”

  “What’s the conclusion?”

  She punched a few buttons and peered at the results. “A couple of interesting reads. First, the kidnapping didn’t surprise him and he had little concern for Sean’s plight.” Her voice caught. “Second, he’s annoyed at Al-Zahrawi, I don’t know why. He knows Al-Zahrawi is hiding something from him and it makes him nervous.”

  That could be the edge Rowe needed.

  The road took them through green hills and rolling valleys, but he was
only dimly aware of the scenery. Sean was Kali’s blind spot. She would do anything to protect her son. Rowe had to find the boy before Kali did something that couldn’t be fixed. The Vitolska’s—at least Sam—were involved, of that Rowe was sure. He just didn’t know how.

  They reached the Vitolska’s in two hours. The lawn was mowed, curtains open, but newspapers cluttered the drive. Rowe checked the yards, garage, windows, but found no one.

  “They left Friday night.” The voice came from next door. An older man, lean and fit in a jeans shirt, stonewashed cargo shorts, and Birkenstock sandals, was resting on a rake. “Took a student with them, so must have been a concert.”

  “We’re looking for a boy, Mr...”

  “Dr. Joe Boyd. Call me Joe.”

  Rowe stuck his hand out and Joe shook it with a bony paw. His arms were pitted, and a scar ran from his wrist to elbow.

  “Where’d you get the shrapnel?”

  “Chosin Reservoir.”

  “My Granddad’s got the same arm, but Leyte Gulf.”

  “Too crazy to stay away, huh?” Joe nodded toward Rowe’s hands.

  “Different war, same marching orders.”

  They chatted about warriors and battles, until finally Joe asked, “You must be the one who left the note. Bobby?”

  “Bobby James is my partner. I’m Zeke Rowe.” He passed Joe his Columbia card. “This is Kalian Delamagente. Her son is one of the students.”

  “I almost called last night. Couldn’t decide if there’s a problem. One of the students—plays that big violin—he had a deep cut on his cheek, starting to scab over. I asked if he was alright, but Sam said he fell. Do they swordfight with the bows?” Joe started to chuckle, but stopped when Kali turned white. “Is something wrong? Did he miss the concert?”

  Kali pulled up a photo of Sean playing his string bass on her phone. “Is this him?”

  “Yep. Good kid. Always polite. He and Edik hang out a lot.”

  “Anything odd you could tell us about. He’s missing.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that. No, everything looked legit or I would have done something. Talk to Connie and Matt, next door. They were friends.”